Holiday
by Bellamy Taft
Summary: While Seto is busy at work, Pegasus and Mokuba plan him a special night. One-shot.


To intheshadowofsignificance, a wonderful and amazing friend.

Happy Birthday.

* * *

Pegasus rolled over and dropped his chin to a fist, elbow the only thing keeping him propped up. He pouted at Seto and tilted his head, failing to get even a glance in return. That would never do, so he forced himself to his feet too early in the morning and walked around to the dresser mirror, where Seto was straightening his tie.

"It's a holiday. There's no reason to go in."

Seto's eyebrow arched up under his bangs and his hands never stopped. "It's not a holiday."

"Not with that attitude."

At least that got a spark of personality, just barely earning the lift of a lip. Seto was too rushed to stop for a conversation that would result in losing a day of work.

"If you want to do something so badly, ask Mokuba."

Pegasus grabbed both of Seto's hands and pulled them down to his sides, and any trace of a smile was lost. "The idea, Seto, is to spend time with my boyfriend."

Seto cleared his throat at the word and worked his hands away.

 _Too soon._

"You'll still be in town tonight. Make a reservation somewhere."

"Or I could cook for you."

"I'd rather you didn't burn down my house."

Scoffing in mock offense, Pegasus stepped back. "I'll have you know I'm an excellent cook."

"Putting cheese on crackers and pairing a wine isn't cooking."

"Let me prove you wrong then."

Seto shrugged into his suit jacket. His gaze refused to meet Pegasus's, and although he was scanning the floor for his shoes, Pegasus felt instinctively that it was a purposeful avoidance. It had been their first night together; maybe he was coming on too strong.

"Seto, I can go home if you're not—"

"I don't want you to leave."

It was probably as much he would get from Seto on the subject.

"Then you pick what we do tonight. I'm up for anything but laser tag."

"You would love laser tag," Seto said, sitting on the bed to tie his shoes.

"I would love laser tag," Pegasus relented. "We should play sometime. Bring Mokuba, of course."

"It might not be a bad addition to KaibaLand."

That had to mean he liked the idea. But Pegasus's abilities to interpret Seto Kaiba always seemed a little off. And he was so on point with everyone else.

Pegasus went back to the bed and sat beside Seto, appreciating how unkempt he looked in comparison, pajamas by a suit, bare feet by oxfords, morning hair by styled. Seto always looked so polished. But Pegasus had seen underneath the night before, the imperfections Seto constantly ensured were hidden.

He was perfect both ways.

But that would just have to stay a quiet opinion.

"I'll be back by five," Seto said. He got to his feet and hesitated, hands double-checking his tie before smoothing invisible creases on his shirt, and stared at Pegasus. "Don't burn down my house."

Pegasus stood as well, and maybe it was the difference in their dress or just that Seto was wearing shoes, but Pegasus felt smaller.

"Have a good day at work, Seto."

The kiss was brief and returned.

* * *

"Mokuba Kaiba. Does Seto really let you sleep in however late you want?"

Mokuba woke up groaning and flopped over to check the clock on his nightstand.

"It's eight o'clock."

"And all is well."

Pegasus was met with a dramatic toss of a pillow and a blanket over Mokuba's head. "It's Saturday," Mokuba mumbled. "Go 'way."

"Hardly a chance of that. I promised Seto we'd cook him dinner, and there are menus to plan, groceries to buy, foods to cook, desserts to bake—"

"That's in like ten hours."

"Well I have to dazzle him. He doesn't think I have it in me."

"Do you?"

"We'll find out!"

But Mokuba stayed tucked under his comforter and that only hindered Pegasus's plans. Mokuba might have thought ten hours was enough time to prepare for a dinner that would hold up to the lofty Kaiba standard, but he was just a little boy who didn't know any better, trapped in the glow of youth without practical knowledge of how long dinners took to organize.

"You're just a little boy who doesn't know any better, trapped in the glow of youth without practical knowledge of how long dinners take to organize," Pegasus said, patting the lump that appeared to cover Mokuba's shoulder.

"Just order in sushi."

"Does he like sushi?" Pegasus asked, then stored the confirmation for future use. "You won't convince me out of this. Let's spend the day doing something nice for Niisama."

The top of Mokuba's head down to the tip of his nose poked out from hiding. "I choose the decorations and dessert."

"You choose the decorations for the entryway and I'll get the dining room, and we each get a dessert."

"Deal."

A small hand worked its way out next and they shook on it.

* * *

Mokuba insisted on pushing the cart.

But Pegasus also wanted to push it.

So they settled it like men rather than having to defer one to another.

Mokuba's scissors beat Pegasus's paper.

"You're a Kaiba," Pegasus whined as they walked down through the bakery section, hands empty. "You're supposed to pick rock."

"I'm a Kaiba, so I knew you would think that. I thought we were making dessert."

Pegasus lifted a finger and then pointed at a shelf of freshly baked bread. "I've never had the patience to wait for it to rise."

"Niisama won't eat bread."

"But you and I will, darling Mokuba. So we're getting a loaf. It's all on my dollar, after all."

Mokuba scoffed at the idea and pushed the cart forward with determination. "I'm buying my stuff for him." But Mokuba stopped a few seconds later and turned to Pegasus with a deeply thoughtful expression, lips off to the side, eyebrows wrinkled just a touch more than his nose. "Isn't it kind of soon for you to be doing this for Niisama?"

"I think you two will come to find I'm not a typical boyfriend."

"I won't be used to that one for a while," Mokuba said, then started to push the cart again. They went up and down the aisles once, occasionally tossing something into the cart, before Mokuba and Pegasus looked at each other.

"We need a real menu," Pegasus said, and Mokuba agreed. Neither of them had come up with more than a plan for dessert, and even that was just an idea and not the recipe.

"We should've planned better."

"How about we find something that has a recipe on it, and then just buy all those ingredients?" Pegasus suggested.

It was better than standing in the middle of an aisle and looking up recipes on their phones. So they found a can of tomato sauce with a recipe for lasagna, and a bag of chicken with some casserole instructions on the back.

"This will be a weird combination," Mokuba said.

"A fitting meal for your brother and me then. Let's track down cream of chicken—what an unappealing name for a food."

* * *

At four fifty-seven, Mokuba met Seto in the garage, pulled him through the back entrance, up the back stairs, and into his office with the order of, "Keep working!"

It didn't bode well for whatever plan Pegasus had come up with to occupy himself and Mokuba during the afternoon.

But to humor them, Seto stayed out of the way for another hour, only accepting the coffee when Pegasus came to offer it, and not asking what mess they were planning downstairs. Pegasus left with what shouldn't have been an ominous, "See you at dinner, Seto," although the tone echoed with ' _Kaiba-boy_.'

And at six o'clock, by the second, Mokuba came in and announced it was time for dinner.

"Do I need to crawl through some sort of secret tunnel to get there?" Seto asked.

" _No._ We're going through the foyer."

Mokuba took Seto's hand and dragged him out, not giving him time to grab the empty coffee mug. Whatever he was this excited about had to be Pegasus's doing, and at the top of the stairs, Seto stopped and looked over the foyer, every inch covered in blue and white streamers, confetti, and balloons.

"It's not my birthday," Seto said.

"Nope! It's You Day!"

"That's not a—"

But Pegasus's words from that morning, _It's_ _a holiday,_ echoed around his head. Of course Pegasus would turn that into a serious notion if only to prove Seto wrong.

"Come on!" Mokuba said, pulling on Seto's hand again, only with less force now that they were working their way down the stairs.

"Don't tell me there's more," Seto said.

"Look at who you're dating."

Relenting to the point, Seto quit stalling.

"I would have thought he would consider who he was dating."

Mokuba's laugh was almost a cackle. "Oh, he definitely kept you in mind."

The dining room was even more garishly decorated than the foyer, only instead of birthday decorations, Pegasus had clearly called in all of the Blue Eyes merchandise in the city, maybe even the surrounding cities, and covered every spare inch of the room in dragons. There was even a Blue Eyes cake in the middle of the table, surrounded by a lasagna, some sort of casserole, a basket of bread, and a plate of cookies. He even had SolidVision projectors set up so the dragons were flying around the ceiling, although smaller versions of them.

"Happy You Day!" Pegasus greeted.

"You two are ridiculous," Seto said, still too shocked to process much else.

Mokuba raised a hand to block his mouth from Seto's sight while he whispered too loudly, "That means you're in."

Pegasus approached and led Seto to his seat on the other side of the table, where a plate waited for him—hidden behind the cake—filled with cheese and crackers. And his glass was full of wine.

"Even if it's not real cooking, you'll find it tastes wonderful." Pegasus leaned over the chair once Seto sat. "I promise to do all the cleaning," he said, just before sneaking in a kiss.

"You're an idiot," Seto said, words slipping through a smile Seto couldn't mask.

"And don't forget it."


End file.
